


If we ever meet again: Part I

by infandomswetrust



Series: Redemption [6]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Gore, Love, M/M, Post-Episode: s02e13 Mizumono, cuteness, dark!Will, just kidding, strangely a lack of nostalgia this time, this starts tamely but it will hurt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-14
Updated: 2014-07-14
Packaged: 2018-02-08 20:09:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1954635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/infandomswetrust/pseuds/infandomswetrust
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With nothing left to hold onto, Will decides to take his life back. And his life is somewhere in Europe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If we ever meet again: Part I

Will had never liked flying. There was always that feeling of no possible escape. But this time it was exactly the other way round. This _was_ the escape. The run from something, the run after something; Will wasn’t sure. But he _was_ running. A calm and quiet run, his life floating past him like the clouds outside. Everything left behind, everything said and done, nothing left unfinished. _Almost polite._ No one had questioned his motives for leaving. They seemed to be rather surprised he hadn’t already left a long time ago. A new start, a new life. The only question that had popped up:

_Why Greece?_

_It’s warm._

Of course he couldn’t have told them that he wasn’t starting a new life but searching for the one he had lost 17 months ago. That he was trying to resume his life. That some instinct had told him Greece was the right place to start. When he arrived at the airport in Volos he was greeted by the sun. It _was_ warm. He was used to hot summers from Louisiana, but it seemed his time in Wolf Trap had affected him. He put his bag down on the hot asphalt and rolled his sleeves up. Suddenly someone tugged at his shirt. He turned around and saw a small boy, ten years old at most, curious brown eyes, dark hair and an innocent smile.

“You come from America,” he said with a stunned expression. His voice was surprisingly high pitched for a boy and he had a staccato accent. He was wearing filthy clothes that were a few sizes too big for him and his hands as well as his face were stained with dust and dirt. “Can I help with your bag, sir?” he asked politely and pointed at the small suitcase to Will’s feet. Will looked at the boy and considered for a moment.

_I’m alone. I take care of myself, always have. These streets are my territory, the only home I have. I am smart, but not educated. I have to take whatever I can get. This is nothing I’m not used to. This is my routine._

“There’s nothing in that bag that could be of use to you. Don’t bother stealing it,” Will said. The boy froze and stared up at him with widened eyes.

“Sir I didn’t want to…” He trailed off, realizing Will wasn’t buying it. He said something in Greek that sounded a lot like a curse and ran off. Will shook his head and gazed after the boy before he picked up his suitcase and looked for a taxi.  There was a free public bus too, but Will had had fairly enough of other people today. The sun was burning down on him mercilessly and he realized he would have to change his attire. Not that he had taken a lot with him. He hadn’t been lying to the boy; there was nothing in his suitcase except for a few clothes, his gun, his fishing equipment and Hannibal’s drawing.

As soon as he had found a taxi and put his bag in, he went back into the airport to wait for the personnel to bring Winston. Yes, of course he had taken him with him. How could he have left him behind? The dog was walking with slow, uncertain steps, still sleepy from the ACP he had been given before the flight. Will thanked the stewardess that handed him the leash and went back outside. Winston eyed his surroundings suspiciously, apparently unaffected by the heat. Before they went back to the taxi, Will saw a big blue sign reading ‘currency exchange’ and exchanged all his money into euros. Afterwards he purchased a few more fitting clothes. He would stay in Europe for a while after all. Maybe for the rest of his life. He had no idea what he was expecting to find. He had nothing to go on. No plan. Nothing but instinct. Coming to Greece had been nothing but impulse. He was aware he had no chance of finding him just like that, but this was at least a place to start his search.

They drove through Thessaly, the foreign surroundings flying past them. Will barely paid attention to the scenery outside, too deep in his own thoughts, while Winston stared fascinated, his muzzle almost bumping the window. After a good hour of driving, they reached a small hotel on the seaside, not too far from Larissa. Will had picked it because it was the most isolated and quiet accommodation he could find in the area and he had booked a room for an entire year beforehand. The hotel belonged to Mr. Bakalou, an old local. The building was tiny, there were only 15 rooms in total but it was cozy in a way. The room was about as big as his living room back in Wolf Trap and there was a large and rather luxury bathroom, compared to the rest of the grubby hotel. When Will looked out of the window he was greeted with a sight to behold. The ocean glimmered in the orange light of the setting summer sun. Beams of light jumped on the small, calm waves and made it look like the blue surface was glistening. The sand was almost white and even just looking at it, Will could feel its warmth, its softness.

There was something on the beach, directly below his window. A shipwreck, rotten and worn out from countless high tides. On the railing a small, familiar figure stood, the big, curious brown eyes now directed at the sea. Will grabbed Winston and went out.

The sand was just as soft as it had looked. Will slowly approached the boat and cleared his throat in order to avoid startling the boy. The kid looked up and flashed a grin. He didn’t seem ashamed of his previous intentions at all.

“Kalispera, sir,” he said cheerfully and climbed off the wreck. He dropped to his knees in front of Winston and started patting the dog, a delighted giggle escaping his throat. Winston enjoyed the affection for a moment before a seagull tore his attention from the boy and he started chasing it. Will gazed after the dog for a moment. There was no need to call him back or take him on a leash. Winston would always come back to him.

“What’s your name?”

“Takis, sir.”

“Hello Takis. You can call me Will.”

“Yes, sir.”

Will smiled slightly. Takis stared at the dog that was meanwhile muzzle-deep in the ocean.

“What’s his name?” the boy asked.

“Winston.”

“Why?”

Will cocked his head surprised.

“Because that’s what I named him.”

“It doesn’t fit him. I’ll call him Patata.”

“And what does that mean?”

“Potato.”

Will laughed, probably the first genuine laugh in 17 months.

“You want to call my dog potato?”

“He looks like one.”

“I don’t think he’d be too happy about that.”

Takis grinned and instead of answering he yelled:

“Patata!”, his already high voice climbing even higher. Winston looked up and eyed the boy for a moment, before returning his attention to the waves.

“Do you live here?” Will asked and motioned at the shipwreck.

Takis grimaced.

“Little boys are not supposed to tell strangers where they live,” he told Will. “Kyrie Petroulas said so.”

At Will’s questioning gaze he added:

“He’s the babas at the orphanotropheio.”

“Orphanage?” Will asked. The boy nodded.

“Why did you run away?” Will asked, quickly discerning the situation. Takis frowned.

“The ocean needs me.”

“The ocean is fine by itself.”

“Me too.” The boy flashed another grin before he ducked his head and ran off, quickly disappearing between two bushes.  


**Author's Note:**

> Gold star if you can tell me why Larissa, Thessaly.


End file.
